


Dear Mom

by anesor



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, First Time, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Padawan Anakin Skywalker, story-through-letters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2018-12-21 03:24:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11935311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anesor/pseuds/anesor
Summary: Anakin has kind of settled into Temple life, but he still misses his mother. So he writes letters to her.





	1. Second Year

Dear Mom

I think it’s like two years since I saw you last. I finely read what Iwrote last year but it was so old I threw it out to make an even better message this time. I’m trying to find a way to get this to you safely sonoone like a Hutt takes you. No one here goes to Tatooine much. Did you know we weren’t inside the Republic? Guess the Hutts wouldn’t like Jedi coming in and messing with their slaves or their racing.

Master Obi-Wan doesn’t like me racing.

You didn’t meet him, did you Mom? He’s okay. He still gets sad because Master Jinn died on Naboo. Padmé was really the Queen there. So she’s an angel and a queen. Being an angel is more wizard, isn’t it? I was scared I’d be on my own when Master Jinn died and the council doesn’t like me. But Obi-Wan spoke to them and I’m learning from him now.

But he doesn’t like racing.

He knows lots of stuff and he’s a knight now and he’s gonna teach me everything I need to be a KNIGHT. Then I can fight droids and cut sith in pieces just like him instead of just breaking a droid control module. That wasn’t as much fun as he had.

I have to study all the time now. It never ends with the boring stuff like history and biology and geopolitics. Language, culture and diplomacy are poodoo, but hardly anyone knows hutteese. I’m not sure if Master knows it or he can feel what I mean when I say it. I really, really like learning how to fight with a light saber. Other things with the force are wizard, but those lessons are confusing. How am I supposed to be a storm and smooth sand at the same time? And no one could explain one hand clapping, no matter who I asked. Light sabers are wizard and I’m finally going to go next week to get my own crystal. _**I can’t wait!!!** _

Master Obi-Wan said I have the behave first and stop sneaking out instead of study. I thought he was going to change his mind when he got back from a grown-up mission.

I don’t have as much time to tinker and build things as I did with you. There are so many more things to build. Master has tripped and hurt his feet just like you used to, Mom. He swears less but he won’t let me make it better like you. He’s threatened to junk it all if I don’t keep a path clear in my room. Like if I get sick.

I fix and upgrade some useful droids when I get time, and even made improvements to a floor polisher when Master Obi-Wan is away. It’s big and heavy and just glides over the floor. It doesn’t float on air even if it makes a breeze as it goes by. If it floated, how would it polish the floor?

The temple is really big and has a LOT of floors to polish. So I removed the governor and improved the stabilizers and it went SO much faster in the halls. Now I wasn’t silly so I went out late at night when I tested it a couple nights. The only thing left behind were polished floors! It wasn’t _that_ fast but it was faster than a trot. If I modified a couple more maybe I could set up races maybe that jerk-face would stop being mean because I was already a padawan.

Last night I was trying for a top speed up and down over a long unused hall away from residential areas where I might wake someone, before Master Obi-Wan returned today. Yeah it was near the hanger, but those halls are wider than upstairs. We can’t race if the halls aren’t wide enough to pass.

But I misjudged a turn at an intersection and the polisher fell over on me.

Don’t worry Mom, I wasn’t hurt at all. They’re just big and way slower than a pod.

I was a little surprised because it hadn’t happened before.

I was more surprised when a dripping Master Obi-Wan came running from the hanger into the hall. And slid on the very polished floor a long distance before he smacked into me and the polisher.

He smelled of damp and rain and dirt and blinked.

I just looked at him. I wasn’t sure if he’d gotten hurt in that skid.

Obi-Wan very carefully sat up and extracted me from the polisher before he spoke. “Were you hurt? Good. I wouldn’t suppose you have a good reason why you are not resting at this time of night?”

I shook my head. If I said more I was sure to make it worse, so I closed my mouth tight. You always said silence was golden, Mom.

He sighed and looked at the polisher. I wished I knew what he was thinking,

Would this cancel my trip to Ilum?

I wanted to start cursing. Would begging help? It made Watto angrier.

Master Obi-Wan set the polisher upright again. He examined it without looking at me. He wiped his face and sighed a really big sigh. “Anakin, you will assist me in returning this to maintenance and recording the incident report. Be sure to include your modifications, the damage to the wall, and the overpolished floor warnings needed in the report.”

“Are you okay, Master?” I had trouble speaking.

He looked me in the eye. “I’m fine, Anakin. But others who use the hall could have twisted an ankle or broken something. You must learn to think ahead.”

I had to fill out the forms and it took forever. It almost seemed like the droid was glaring at me for making more work. That I would have to paint and plaster.

It was really, really late by the time we got back to our quarters and I was walking really really slow. I was afraid to ask as I got ready to sleep. In case he might forget what I did.

“You can still go to Ilum, Anakin. But no more polisher racing.”

He’s not too bad, Mom. Even if he doesn’t like racing.

Love, Anakin


	2. Fourth Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin is learning and going on missions, but contacting his mother has not been going well...

Dear Mom,

I finally got last year’s letter out with a smuggler, months after my anniversary. My second year letter went a different way, through former Senator who’s been nice to me since I was nine. But he was busy and later told me his messenger’s ship was taken by either pirates or slavers. It was a wizard ship and he told me it was probably a tempting target.

I was so mad it was lost.

So for last year’s letter, I decided to try to find a smuggler. Their ships came the most to Tatooine for deliveries. They’re expensive to hire, and finding one that does go to Tatooine and here was even rarer. Getting both would be a lot of money.

Don’t think they keep me poor, Mom. I get a stipend, and it will go up when I get promoted to a senior Padawan. I have all the food and clothing and supplies I want and we’re not supposed to collect stuff. I get to visit the strangest markets when we’re on a mission, but we’re doing important Jedi stuff for politicians. Sometimes there’s pirates, too! The stipend is enough for treats or sometimes gifts. Sometimes I need a custom tool for my workbench or tool belt, and returning them to the common shops all the time is a pain. So I have money, but not enough to pay Twi’lek smugglers to get within a parsec of you, not enough to _do_ anything.

Eventually on a mission, I met a smuggler during an evacuation. And she didn’t want to leave without her pay and broken swoop but both were too heavy to take away on foot. There was a lot of shooting sometimes from looters earlier, but I was fine. Don’t worry about that, Mom.

Master Obi-Wan told me. “You may _rest_ here for a few minutes, Padawan, but we will need to return for one last sweep.” His eyes had that crinkle that he was smiling inside.

I hurried with my repair for the smuggler, bending a pick and nearly burning my fingers. Obi-Wan could tell I was almost done, and he got in our speeder.

He _did not_ like me to drive on missions.

I got her swoop running and she nearly smothered me with her hug. “Thank you so much, Jedi! Can I reward you?” Her orange lekku swept around me.

It was really hard not to look at her… skin, Mom. My face got hot and I could feel my Master’s amusement as he started the speeder and it drifted a few steps.

I asked her, “We’re not allowed to accept payment. But, could you make sure a message gets to Tatooine for me?”

Her face fell, Mom, and we know why. But she didn’t reject it outright.

“You don’t have to do it yourself, as long as you can get it there _safely._ ” I dug in my belt for the marked envelope and the money I had. “Please. She’s a slave and I haven’t seen her in three years.”

She sighed and reached out her hand.

It’s been a year and I didn’t see her again, but I hoped you would.

\--

I’m really good with my light saber and I’m in advanced mechanics and pilot training. Obi-Wan says I might be teaching before I pass my Trials. Moving things with the Force is fun. I’m doing okay enough in my other classes now. I haven’t made too many friends, they all had clans they grew up in and treated me like freeborn kids did back home.

I **know** you would have told me that I have to be patient, and their boredom would give me a second chance. Thing is, there’s always more to **do** , so there’s not much time for boredom. Master Obi-Wan said I could pick another language to learn. People in a panic can’t always remember Basic. I get that, but I’d have even less time to fly or work on droids.

That’s harder, Mom.

I still miss my pod racer. I hope you remembered to sell it. It was all salvage and scrap. **Flying is** **even** **better** **the pods** , and flying in space is wizard even if I haven’t done as much as I’d like. I’m done a lot of sims and Master is too amused when I “get enthusiastic and overconfident” and wreck in the sim.

I’m just pushing the boundaries, and real ones are more controllable than the harder lines of simulations. They react slower than my pod-racer did and I can’t use the Force as much in a sim.

Obi-Wan won’t let me drive on missions much.

But I’ve never wrecked badly _outside_ a sim, so he worries too much. He’s as good at that like you are.

Did I mention I get to go on most of Master Kenobi’s missions now? Maybe every couple of months there’s one where I have to stay in the Temple with one of Obi-Wan’s friends because I’m too old for the creche now. I’ve been to thirty-seven worlds, Mom. Some have sand, it is everywhere like there. But most worlds are much nicer. And much wetter.

But I love getting out to see things even if diplomacy is frustrating. People kept looking at me and Obi-Wan, saying rude things to him about me being too young on my early missions. He didn’t look mad when they were rude, but he felt like it. He told me his beard would help and I think it did. He doesn’t look that different, his eyes are the same and he wears those huge robes unless there’s going to be a fight. After those he gets a new cloak because we can’t run back and get it.

I’ve grown a lot, and I joke that I’m going to catch up with Obi-Wan any day now. He always huffs when I say that, but I want to be tall like Master Jinn was. I want people to look up to me like they did him. So I won’t be a super persuasive speaker like my Master, so I’ll make sure I’m good at fixing things and getting good enough with my saber to beat a Sith. Then someone like Master can do the talking. Is Threepio helping you? I’m modifying some training droids to be like the Sith that killed Master Jinn. I had to dig through recordings after I got Archive people to let me have access so I could see how the Sith fought and set up the training droid. Droids can’t use the Force, so it can only help with physical training. I hope Obi-Wan will like it, I think he still misses Qui-Gon.

–

My anniversary in the Temple is next week. No, it’s not a holiday or even like a Life day. It’s just how long since I saw you last. But a lot happened on our last mission. And this one’s not as secret as most, it was a couple of conglomerates fighting over a remote island. One side had a colony that raised a high value breed of nerf. (yeah, _**that’**_ _ **s**_ boring) And the other side was engineering new types of bacta that grew better in remote places. (Master wonders if a bacteria might be Force-sensitive) It didn’t seem like they **had** to fight to me, it was a big enough island. Some sleemos chased us for days after we landed because they wanted to get their way instead of share if we “interfered.” The island was mostly grassland with shallow beaches, I think you’d like the beaches and ocean despite the sand. I liked it further inland with some trees, I could really ramp up the speeder to get us away from the sculag, whichever side they were on. It all worked out when we escaped, even if I  would have liked to beat up the ones that chased us.

Obi-Wan doesn’t like me to drive on missions much, but he let me when it was important to get away.

Even better, there was a small package for me when I got back. No message. And Master Obi-Wan said that he was sure it was safe, like the Force told him.

I opened it in my room.

Inside a wrapped cloth was something oblong, not oval and not squared. It wasn’t heavy. Then it was nested in the tan fabric, a piece of carved japor ivory, and I could not stop smiling. _You_ know what it is, but I had to hold it, to feel that you held it just like I was. You taught me the symbols for luck and health and success and it was big enough to hold them all on one side.

The other side was carved and smoothed with two suns that never touched but warmed each other. The sealer made it faintly yellow and I didn’t notice the shallow carved eyes of blue on the one and brown on the other. Not at first.

I wished I could thank you as much as I loved it. Thank you, Mom.

Love, Anakin

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ETA: not sure why something I posted last night isn't showing up in the new releases. Should I stay every two years or make it more frequent?


	3. Fifth Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Anakin has caught up with academics, missions teach their own lessions... or don't.

Dear Mom…

I’m not sure what to say. The flimsi image was a little beat up. I’m really, really glad you’re free. At least I hope that’s what you meant with the sign that said you were just married. Having Threepio hold one side had to be funny with his complaints. Your home looks _real._ Nothing like what we lived in.

I want to see you and meet Clieg and Owen, whichever one is which. *drawing of two smiling suns* It looks like they’re moisture farmers. I’m still going to worry, no place on that sand pit is really safe from the slavers. I’d still like you to leave.

I’m glad Threepio is still working. I wasn’t sure he’d work for long in all that heat and sand. I didn’t have enough time to finish him off before I had to go and I could have made some shields to slow contamination from the grit. I hope he’s been helpful, I must have put in a million times the languages you need for Tatooine.

Maybe he could teach you Alderaanean, you’d like it there. There’s no slavers and they’re really peaceful. Naboo is pretty too, but they are still rebuilding after they were invaded. I’ll work on a list to send you.

I do more customization of droids now. There’s a lot of them for the kinds of work I did as a kid. Small ones take care of sweeping and cleaning, and I like tweaking the mouse droids who do our quarters when we’re on mission. I still have to do that kind of chore when we aren’t, Obi-Wan thinks cleaning up after my own messes builds character.

He doesn’t really like droids.

One time I got in trouble when some of my parts fell down the sink and chewed up the disposal. He gave all the droids orders to destroy all parts that reached the kitchen area. The plumbing repairs took over a week as the pieces kept falling lower in the system.

He doesn’t complain as much with my room. Neither of us want them cleaning in there for different reasons.

I did catch up with the others my age for my studies, pretty much. I admit, a lot of it I soaked up for tests, and don’t remember much today, annoying Master Kenobi. I learn it better when it’s related to a mission, and we’ve been to so many planets now.

The light saber training droid I programmed for him did not go over well. I couldn’t feel anything about what he thought or felt about the simulation of the Sith that he fought against in the Naboo invasion. His control once I started the program got so…

It was like _he wasn’t there._

That _scared_ me, Mom.

When he was done, he stormed away without looking at me.

I didn’t see him for hours and he banned simulations like that in the future. Ha gave me reasons like enemies never follow a training sequence and will always do something different. They also can’t use the Force, that most dangerous Sith skill.

Mostly, Master Obi-Wan doesn’t trust droids.

Some missions I go on are more fun. One was a training exercise on an icy planet, and that just _might_ be worse than sand. We had to rescue a famous researcher and her children. They were being held for ransom by some pirates. There were much more fun than the ones we used to see. I know… uh, because I got captured while I was working on the locks. I didn’t get hurt at all, as the head pirate had more fun taunting Obi-Wan than threatening us.

So I spent a day there locked in with the four of them, and Margot thought I was dashing and cute. She wanted to ‘cuddle’ to keep warm, but I didn’t know what to say to her. And she as waiting for something.

After Obi-Wan rescued us between trickery and using the Force, he couldn’t tell me what she wanted. And suggested that I record the phenomena so he could analyze it better.

I wondered when I would see Margot again to ask.

We went to Corellia on some diplomatic mission for the Jedi Council itself. That was kind of boring. The only interesting thing about that trip was that the Jedi there all wore green instead of all those boring browns.

I asked Obi-Wan, “Can we stay here? I _like_ color. The contrast with your beard would be amazing.”

“No, I think not, Padawan mine.” He shuddered. “I would look like some kind of party decoration.”

“But we’d look _more_ friendly.” I could not hide my grin, Mom. “Maybe fewer people would attack. Diplomacy would be easier.”

My Master smirked back at me. “And that would make the battle-droids stop in their shock and awe at the colors.”

“Maybe they’re color blind and we could walk right past them.” I really like the idea of seeing Obi-Wan in anything but tans and browns that fit Tatooine perfectly. One time I wondered if their clothing was all made there.

The combat droids were a problem. We found them making trouble several times after that invasion we stopped, Mom. Sometimes I wanted to build something that could nullify them easily, but the easiest way would have been to introduce a trapdoor chip and keeping that a secret would be impossible. So it was much easier to trash them before they got us.

Obi-Wan hates combat droids.

Not that it’s some towering passion that he loses control, but in a detached and efficient engine of droid-destruction kind of way. He always gets hurt trying to keep them away from me, but I’m as good as many knights already and I rescued him twice now.

I miss you. Think about leaving. When I’m a knight I will be able to sneak away easier. We don’t have much downtime together, and I’m still working on the mastery levels in my strongest areas like mechanics. And I do like starting the youngest Initiates on droid care.

I miss you so much, Mom.

Love, Anakin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Releases slowed from NaNo. Let me know questions, and I'll see if they fit the existing arc.


	4. Year Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Padawan Anakin’s lessons become more subtle. He doesn’t always get it and infodumps on his mother.

Dear Mom,

It’s getting harder to remember the sound of your voice… except before I sleep in my dim and warm _enough_ room in the Temple. It feels like half my life has been spent away. But it’s _only_ six years as a Padawan. Knighting should happen in _only_ another six, for the average duration for humans. _**Only**_ , like that’s a small thing.

But then I remember that Obi-Wan never even knew his mom to miss her. He talks about a few old friends once in a while. Only Qui-Gon comes up often like I think of you, and he died. 

I miss you still, so much. So far away...

I realized it wasn’t normal flimsi you sent, but made of plants. I hope it wasn’t something edible! I don’t want you hungry to send me a note. I’m glad you’re happy and agree Owen’s problems with girls are funny. 

I have to wonder which of Owen and me is taller? I’ve had at least two growth spurts since I saw you. Food is never a problem in the Temple and Masters often live more than twice as long as people live there. _Obi-Wan_ is still called young by some Masters.

Obi-Wan gets annoyed at my height, now. 

Maybe I tease him. It’s fun. He grumbles that I haven’t really topped him and then straightens up for that little bit so he’s as tall as me. But he _knows_ I’m not done growing.

My academics are pretty much done, until I demonstrate I forgot or missed something. It’s not that big a problem, Obi-Wan studies a lot too and has little research projects to entertain himself. He will pass on anything he thinks is interesting or funny, to him at least.

I’m top certified in mechanics, a bunch of ships and speeder types. None are as much fun as my pods. If we have a longer down time between missions I help the training Master teach about emergency and improvised repairs. Some of your rules are the best for quick and minimal get-it-working.

Missions in the field are the great though. I don’t have to share Obi-Wan and sometime it’s a lot of fun. Not quite as much fun when I have to try to fold myself into a small space for a mission task.

Obi-Wan _almost_ hides his laugh when my height makes me feel crowded. 

I know, without the Force, he will never let me hear the end of it if my height gets me stuck.

Our missions have been more diplomatic this year. I don’t know how people like Senators can stand it all day, every day. I know my Master is hoping I learn some magic tone or approach like he learned from his Master. And probably from his Master, and her Master- all the way back to the first Jedi. 

I’ve tried, Mom. 

But it almost always comes down to one or both sides being stupid, greedy, or both. They have power and everyone else is below them and their demands. I can’t pretend enough sympathy for their kriffing problems to listen to them a dozen times, before persuading them to compromise.

Politicians are the worst, talking out both sides of their faces. 

I can feel when Master Obi-Wan is feeling for their truths and their lies in the Force, but all I feel is muddy… it’s supposed to be ‘ _an asteroid field where some of the rocks are true and others lies,_ _and all in motion and changing_ _, but we have to navigate a careful course to reach a true understanding_ _of the field of interactions_.’

No, I don’t get it either. He says I don’t listen close enough. The standard Jedi lecture about calm and detached serenity while talking to politicians didn’t make any sense to me, so Obi-Wan came up with muddy rivers and the asteroid field. But that’s so abstract and it didn’t help me see any politician as anything but a sleemo. 

It saves time to for me to assume, but he wants me to be able see the difference. Or else I would treat the good ones badly. I’m not convinced there are more than two or three and I know them already, Mom. But Obi-Wan insists I work on it.

Sometimes he narrates examples in holos we watch, for the details of body language and tone of voice. Over and over on missions he wants me to listen to what they say and think about how they try to influence us. They may want good things, but the good of a preserve might not outweigh the good of a desalination plant. 

I have to be quiet inside and out and listen. Master Obi-Wan gets a look on his face when he listens and becomes a shallow pool without a ripple.

A very _short_ pool.

One of our recent missions wasn’t a rescue or pirates or anything fun. We went to a mining world. It was pretty far out from the Core, but in a different direction than you are. Mining is their biggest industry.

Before we left our transport, Obi-Wan said, “Listen carefully, not just to what they say, but listen to _how_ they say it. Look for the briefest expression that doesn’t match what they say. The way they shift their eyes. And how their presence in the Force whispers against their words. This is harder with races who are resistant to the Force, but not impossible, my Padawan.”

Yeah, he talks like that. _A lot._

So much I’ve memorized some lectures. He hates if I echo him.

But he is so wizard with his light saber and has taught me so much. You’d like him, he explains a lot better than most Masters. Jedi Masters, that is. The others just say something and think it’s clearer than mud.

So, anyway, most of the miners on this planet for our mission were Toydarian, you know, just like Watto. Well, the non-miners too, but this mission was about mining. But they all resist the persuasive skills that Obi-Wan can use. We went down the ramp and a flock of nearly buzzing Toydarians from the Yndar East Syndicate were ready to greet us with pretty words about the planet, the mines, the weather, the weather _in_ the mines, and boxes of candy.

_Candy?_

Obi-Wan was amused. I didn’t see anything funny about it.

This one man, an imported minister of trade balance stepped forward, his heels snapping against the floor like there was some stud attached to his heels to draw attention. He told us he was excited to meet Jedi with our reputations, and mentioned one of our recent missions. 

I’m getting _famous_ , Mom, and I’m not even a _Knight_ yet.

We were provided quarters at an inn, one that didn’t have much more luxury than the Temple.

Each side spoke at us separately for a time, the first group wanted to get the mines to be shut down and requested the Senate’s help. The Senate sent us. They had holos and reports and witness testimony by the bucket-load about how the mines were destroying the ‘garden’ of these two tailed voles. These two people gave us most of their evidence and they were calm and polished, the woman _stared at me_ all the time when she wasn’t speaking.

I wasn’t comfortable. Her gaze was both intense and creepy, Mom.

The main speaker spoke to Obi-Wan and not me, his smooth Core world accent and long, white gold hair in perfect placement.

I liked _that_ even less, Mom. He made me think of a predator, not even a rancor but a womp rat. Not dark side, but someone who’d end his days in the sarlacc, and no one would mind.

Obi-Wan was very quiet during the presentation, even tense, and I felt no amusement from him. I knew that meant he saw something, but I didn’t feel anything and got _so_ frustrated.

We switched conference rooms to speak to the mining company, I had to ask him... Don’t worry, _no one could overhear us._ It’s a Force thing. ‘What did you see? They have a lot of supporting data. They can _mine_ somewhere else _._ ’

He put his hand on my shoulder to calm me down. His response was also silent, but not what we could do long yet. ‘Shh, my Padawan. We only begin our questions. Some lie and some are deluded.’

A lot of the stuff he tries to teach me is useless. He believes it, though.

The mine owners were sitting around a table with snacks and perked up when Obi-Wan sat with them. I stood, leaning against the wall pretending to watch out for attacks through the window. They talked about how they ran a clean mining operation with mostly custom mouse droids making narrow shafts that were gradually widened so all ore bearing rock was collected from the veins with low risk to workers and disruption. Then they rehabilitated the remains into terrain and replanted the same plants.

They _claimed_ above average yields, and Obi-Wan hummed again.

I asked them, “ _What about_ the those rats with two tails that are native? Do they get _refugee status_ and resettled under guard?”

As I expected, they got upset at the question.

“No, no, Master Jedi. Namzaru voles are a sport and a common recessive line that should breed back to the true Zaru voles in a few generations. There are other breeding pools in other areas. Our studies have shown that they rapidly recolonize after mining areas shut down. And the droids have governors to remove, not harm them. The protesters are panicking without _reason_ about a common variance like hair color for humans _._ ”

I caught anger in his glare at me for pointing it out.

Obi-Wan said the pretty words before we left, but he said nothing until we returned to our room. What do you think, Mom? Do you think the situation was fairly clear _even before_ research?

The first thing Obi-Wan asked me was, “What is the motives and goals of the two parties, my Padawan?”

Well the miners were easy, they wanted a profit. The others wanted to protect the helpless voles and I guessed kriff the miners.

Obi-Wan nodded. “Good, Padawan. Look deeper, what did they say or do that hinted that that might not be the whole truth?”

I had to frown at his question. “The miners didn’t use slaves or waste ore?”

“And?” When I shrugged, he added, “What comes next if the protesters get their objective? Are they seeking the voles to… what? Will they pick another cause? More importantly, who benefits beyond the voles and the ore? Ore can’t profit, but does some group profit if the voles win?”

“I don’t know, Master.” I didn’t think he meant vole babies.

“That, my young friend, is a second order consideration. We don’t know. Second order goals are hidden and third order motivations are the ones that politicians take a great efforts to hide. Usually, they wish to remain in power, the responsible ones wish to serve their people.” He began to make some tea. “We will need to research those involved, and ask careful questions.”

I could feel the boring approaching in the Force.

But checking the public data and then slicing into less public was more fun. I was almost… no, I was disappointed when the father of the woman that kept staring at me built resorts, built resorts with armed guards to protect the guests with blasters and droids from unrest and regulation. Rumors in a Senate gossip source even said he was looking for a new one… and that his pockets had already been lined and fined about resorts that destroyed the landscape on two other planets…

Obi-Wan did not tell me, ‘I told you so.’ He did point out more tells and how the miners earnest greed was less harmful. And that the opposing negotiators may have been specially chosen to interact with us specifically. That my age let them believe that pretty girls would blind me to their words.

Mom, I don’t know. I didn’t think so. She wasn’t that pretty and her eyes bothered me.

Obi-Wan challenged me to think about why I jumped to that conclusion so quickly.

We had other missions, they were more routine. We went on another training mission on Korun, and that place was harsh. Nothing really interesting happened until a disaster call reached Master Plo and he called us. The Senate would have debated it for weeks, and Chancellor Palpatine would apologize to me for how slow consensus was.

Not that it was more _important_ to help _._

Master Plo raised at least thirty Jedi, of every field rank to come to Thoi-Driss right away with ships. Millions had already died, I could feel the dimming of the Force from orbit. I might have been feeling the drop in the Living Force from the Mid-Rim when we were called. Distance isn’t always a factor, Mom.

I doubt the details reached you on that rock, but a super-volcano exploded with ash and rocks covering maybe a third of the almost only continent. Sunlight was dimmed and temperatures collapsed world-wide. There wasn’t a lot of people living there, in the millions, not like the trillion living on Coruscant. But the dead zone kept spreading and ash in their lungs was killing them slowly even when buildings collapsing didn’t. 

A major city hadn’t been far from the first eruption. Then it was _gone_ , and we could feel so very few still alive in that area when we got there. After a while, all those deaths made it so dark as the Force mourned. I couldn’t even cry as we worked, I was numb. Orbital vids showed that a region of the crust dissolved. At first there was one volcano breaking the crust, then two, the land seemed more forge than land.

The Order sent the first waves of rescue and evacuation ships, the Senate just doesn’t have anything that acts quickly. A week was fast to the Chancellor, and I could tell he just wasn’t that upset.

The ship _w_ _e_ used wasn’t that big, but it was fast and sturdy and maneuverable. We went further into the worst areas to pull people out. We were close enough that chunks of pumice bounced off our hull even with the best shielding. Flying through that was worse than a pod race, because the magma didn’t think. Obi-Wan let me pilot. We could cram only in the dozens for each run and worked non stop for days. We had several medical droids on board for the survivors. 

The biggest open space was in the cockpit and the press made me nervous. Even piloting couldn’t help with feeling hemmed in by metal and bodies.

Obi-Wan kept sending me comfort. Without mentioning my height once.

Some didn’t make it to the far island in a once tropical zone that was the staging area for survivors.

We got a lot out, Mom. _A lot died._

The refugee camp was crowded with so many thousands as the Council sent more ships with food and supplies from the Corps. And portable desalination units, so there was plenty of water.

The Senate dithered and took a vacation for some kriffing holiday.

So there was no place for these people to go from here.

By this time there were about a hundred Jedi spread out over the island. The new survivors coming in, had dwindled to nothing. A lot of the native emergency people didn’t make it, so we had to patrol and settle disputes over what they had carried away. Some saved jewels and fancy clothing, the idiots.

I think you get that I’m not so good at disputes, so I was running patrols while one transport that had lift issues was used to house kriffing thugs that kept forming gangs to _take_ from other survivors. 

One of the early days, I pulled some kriffing sleemos off this civilian girl. I didn’t need my blade to knock them out. The hilt was enough to put them out. There just weren’t _enough_ walls in the camp to throw them against.

That felt good. I wanted to turn the blade on, to cut them in half and make them fear crossing that line ever again. But the girl whimpered and winced away from me.

I wanted to rescue her and she was afraid of me. I signaled for backups before I gathered my cloak for her. “It’s okay. I’m a Jedi. I called a medic to help you.”

She didn’t look like she believed me; her face red from tears and marks from fists. “Can I- can I go to a _new_ spot? No one here did _anything_ to help.”

I glared at the surrounding crowd and some winced. “Yeah, we’ll find a bunk closer to the Jedi camp for you.”

She kept thanking me and until one of the MediCorps came. Her voice was really quiet. “Can you take me there? I feel safer with _you._ ”

I didn’t really see a problem, the Corps member was a Jedi too, more or less. The Corps design some of our specialized equipment and modifications, Mom. That might have been fun, but I could not have used a light saber. But I carried her to the closest camp, with the other Jedi trailing along and left her in their care.

I didn’t see her again for a few days, I’d found her closer to a different Jedi camp than mine and I was sent out for what was the last rescue run. I was not looking forward to treatment for breathing in ash when I got back to the Temple. Bacta tanks don’t help lungs all that much.

When she saw me on patrol, she ran and hugged me. “ _You’re back._ I missed you. Are all Jedi so handsome?”

She looked better this time and was maybe a couple of years older than me. 

“Umm, maybe? I don’t think about it. There’s Jedi of most every race and beauty depends...” I really could not explain. Some Jedi had sex, but we couldn’t marry or anything, so it seemed pointless. -And I hadn’t grown up in their creche and clans, so they’re more interested in older Padawans 

“Where do Jedi live? Is it someplace nice like Alderaan? Someplace without volcanoes?”

Jittery still in the Force, I could hear that she was calming. “We live on Coruscant in the Jedi Temple when we aren’t on missions. A _lot_ of worlds don’t have active volcanoes.”

“That must be very exciting to be so close to everything important. This world was the back end of nowhere. You’re such a hero. So strong and powerful.”

I know that kind of thing, Mom, and the Force told me to get away. I pushed her away and basically lied. “Exciting isn’t always good. You’ll find a new world.”

I _loved_ the excitement of being in the field.

My comm went off and Obi-Wan summoned me for a report. I told her I was glad she was doing better and rushed off. 

After several weeks, the first transports were arriving and she _found me_ again passing through an emptied section and nearly kept me from breathing with her hug. “Master Jedi. Help me! They’re sending me _away._ It’s not safe! Can’t I stay with you? I won’t take much space. I’ll even clean your apartment… and.” She paused to take a deep breath. “You deserve better things given to you. I’ll do _**anything**_ to go with _**you**_ _._ ”

I  didn’t expect her to pull herself closer to grope me.  I felt more excited after a good spar  than her actions , so I pried myself free. “I’m sorry, I live with my Master and all Padawans are counted as underage.  _ You can’t come with  _ _ **me.** _ ”

Her face crumpled, and went from teary pleading to angry. “Ain’t I pretty enough?  I can make sure your home is prefect! Make sure you aren’t lonely, make sure your bed isn’t cold. You won’t lift a finger to help  _ me! _ You’re a cold bastard like all your frozen gang, and you don’t care what happens to little people like me. I’m just being shoved o f f onto some kriffing desert world. No money, no family, no contacts, no one to give a damn.”

Her hands were shaking  but then she tried to  hit me  and I had to concentrate to resist taking her down .  Her  clothing ripped  too,  but she had problems with my  robes and gear, and she started crying in anger. I held her wrists away from me.

I don’t like deserts either. (sorry, Mom!) But she wasn’t pretty anymore with her rage and anger. And felt so dark as she screamed without words. I didn’t know what to do with a berserk woman who wanted to _hurt_ me.

“Young lady, if you would please unhand my Padawan?” He was really good with sarcasm, though this was his fake kindly smile.

He almost seemed to be listening.

She started kicking.

_-Hold still, Anakin.-_ And he used the Force to pull her away, kicking and screeching at nothing.

“I believe it is time for you to be confined and see a healer before you reach your new home. These events have unbalanced you greatly, and we cannot inflict you on others.” He sounded warm, but he was more than irked.

I was really glad he confirmed she was going to still go to the desert. 

She was ugly behind her face.

  


I miss you so much, Mom.

Love, Anakin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nano is over, but Medical snafus have taken all that energy. :(


	5. Dear Ani

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exchanges are more reliable and Anakin looks forward to his correspondence now...

My dearest son.

I feel the same about your voice too. I am aware that your voice must have changed and roughened from shouting in fights and strange planets you have seen. I read your letters and I hear your words in the clear and serious tones you used when you were trying to act mature and convince me of something against my better judgment. I know in my heart that you must have a baritone voice, but I can't quite imagine it.

Don’t lose heart, Ani. If you are only half-way through your training, and you are _already_ dealing with pirates and disasters and young women who want to bed you for the advantages a jedi might bring them. I’m glad your teacher watches out for you, even if you are nearly grown.

I **know** it must frustrate you, my little love, but I would be doing the same for you if I could. Would you be as angry with me in your race to become an adult?

I think I feel sorry for your Obi-Wan. He does not know his family, his blood-kin. That just leaves them more rootless than we are here. Blown to and fro for their duties, like tumbleweeds, how could they withstand the storms? That man that attacked their group when they came here, he must not have had any strong roots when someone wanted to use him. That led him into his death.

I doubt any mourned a monster,

I want your roots strong, Ani. Hold your kindness close, it costs little to share.

Your brother Owen is growing harsher, mostly from worry. Beru doesn’t like it, and has been stepping out with the slave owned by the Portmaster. Clear to me is that he will be free with his affection and treasure Beru. His words are smooth and sweet and he promises more comfort than moisture farming someday. Any children will be safe and free, but it still would be hard for them. Owen has more trouble showing his feelings, sounding so cold when he doesn’t mean to. I know he loves her, but he isn’t as easy with feelings, as speaking about his problems trading in the shadow of the Hutts. He stumbles more with her every visit, even criticizing her old speeder. Owen gets hurt at the slightest hint toward advice. He sees it as lecturing, when Cliegg and I just want him to learn things that were hard and painful for us. Not the hard way.

No, I can’t use flimsi like your message, it costs too much and the Hutts buy it all out for their records. This paper is also an import, and made from organics as well. It doesn’t last too long, the air is too dry here. So it isn’t that dear. It won’t dry out there with you, so it’s perfect.

We’re building a new garden well and I’m looking for a membrane to reflect the worst of the heat, yet retain the moisture. If it works out we might start a crop of tiny melons for market. Peas don’t grow fast enough to replace the imported gamp as a diet staple, but we’re getting enough herbs that we can use them for every meal.

I **told** you that you would be tall, just don’t forget how you hated when taller beings would taunt you. Please don’t become what you hated…

I’m so proud that you are certified in multiple mechanics, that will be useful in so many ways, Ani. I admit I am a little relieved you no longer pod race. I was so afraid that time would slow down and come to a stop as I watched your pod crash.

* * *

It is much harder to imagine you at some negotiations. Blunt truths don’t bring compromise, listen to your teacher. Mister Jinn was honey tongued to get your freedom entire, your Master must have been an able student from your description of his teaching. You saw the same kind of false seeming when you were small. Remember that down on his luck smuggler who had almost the entire Cantina panting after her to help fix her ship? Then she took the most smitten away for the bounty. Always ask the profit, Ani. Why would people really care that much for a two tailed vole?

Unless they are a vole.

People like that must either have nothing more important or troubling in their lives. Or, they are hiding the true reason, like the vole lover is screwing them to get her way. Sounds like they were aiming at both you and Master Kenobi, but I am glad you saw beyond that.

Sounds like they underestimated your age if they brought candy. Was it any good? I wonder how fast you eat now...

I would like to see you fight with your saber, but not enough to have some disaster like that other world. I hadn’t heard about Thoi-Driss, though I found out more after you mentioned it. You know how little and of our news services cover anything outside Hutt-space.

It’s hard to believe almost half died before evacuation ships arrived, and that you were in the middle of those operations. That landscape was frightening as it came apart from below, something that is hard to absorb as real.

I hope you had your lungs checked and cleared afterwards, Ani. Every life rescued is a blessing, even if they are foolish later. I hope everyone brought out of that alive remembers that it wasn’t some trade consortium or power-hungry politician who had ships and risked their lives. The Jedi help people and I’m so glad you are helping other people already. That raises kindness even higher.

I do hope you will come to care for someone as partner or student learner. I’d rather they not be using you and abusing your kind heart, Ani.

I can feel sorry for the young woman. I’ve known some very dark times: when I lost my freedom, and when I was afraid as we’d been traded to Watto sight unseen. But that young woman was not being kind, and I hope she learns it from healers. Ugly often does not show in the face.

Do you think carvings would be of interest to collectors on other worlds? I’m hoping to…

* * *

The pilot arrived early with a proposition, so I leave off here. All my love, my beloved Ani. Be happy. I am fine.

Love, Mom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had been horribly blocked on the next Anakin chapter. When I noticed that I was plotting out this letter 'off camera' for Anakin to respond to, I realized it was silly to not include it...


	6. Years to Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan has decided that Anakin needs to supplement certain skills, beyond the core classes.

  
  


** To the Most Amazing Mom in the Galaxy, **

  
  


_I could not stay angry with you, Mom._ I _know_ you want the  best for me. You don’t nag me. I’ve seen sleemos out here nearly as bad as the Hutts. People _should_ be angry at them.

Maybe Owen should work for the Jedi, they like cold. They don’t _approve of_ showing emotions like love, and they don’t marry. He could be _friends_ with Beru as much as he wants.

Yeah, there were some Hutt-lickers back there who seemed nice and _they_ turned Radly in. I never saw what they got out of it, Mom.

I still don’t.

I just got done with a class Mom. I’m not convinced advanced sociology will help me with diplomacy. Master Obi-Wan is so good at dealing with people, even people I don’t think he likes. He got really, really angry with a group of Mando mercs when we were passing through a shadow port.

They were the type to talk big and push around anyone they wanted. We were undercover and just looked like regular cargo crew, but he tore them a new one and it wasn’t in Basic.

They left us alone after that.

I need to learn Mando, Mom.

But he’s good at persuasion, too. _This_ training mission was for us to visit a string of ports, without using anything but a small stipend, the smaller the better. We could call for assistance if we wanted to fail the exercise. This took several months, and other things happened along the way too, but this was for me to learn self sufficiency on a mission. After two legs, I was put in charge of arranging transport, but I got real angry when a deal I was working on went bad.

Obi-Wan doesn’t like it when I get angry.

I didn’t even _act_ on it, Mom. He can feel in the Force when I’m about to flip out. And he interrupted me with _that_ tone of voice that said I was gonna be lectured later. 

Blah, blah, blah. It’s always the same, about controlling and separating from my emotions, so I can be a good little Padawan like the Council wants. He’s such a _good little Jedi_ , cold and controlled, but I won’t be me if I _thr_ _e_ _w away_ my emotions.

He may be a _perfect little_ Jedi, but I’m taller now, Mom.

* * *

You told me about Owen, but having a brother just doesn’t seem _real._ It’s like when you told me about the old gods, and that gave me nightmares that some bleached-white-like-dry-bones boy of sun-baked clay took my place after I angered the suns by hiding in the dark underground. I was really scared by that on and off for years, Mom, but didn’t say anything to you. Like I would get all washed out and dried out of life if I didn't behave. It took years, and a lot of water, for that to go away.

I still don’t like wearing pale robes, Mom. I know it’s silly, but...

Owen must be my age if he’s looking to bed someone, but he’s younger in my head. The Lars seem only like tales travelers tell, Mom. Sorry.

The best thing about signing as crew for this exercise is that I get to pilot if I can convince the regular crew I’m good enough. I have piloting papers through the Temple and I can’t show them when we’re undercover like this, I have certifications for a bunch of ships already. Some of the ships I’ve flown were beautiful and some are old junk from the Kuat shipyards. Some are too fast to not be used for smuggling, but they didn’t admit to anything to new hands like us.

The last leg of the exercise took us to another port with its shadow and Obi-Wan spent time drinking with a friend of Dex’s. The staff wouldn’t let me have anything very strong. Shadow ports don’t care anymore than on Tatooine.

They had a drink that would make a pile of money there, something that spikes into the beers. It left me feeling really cold. I tested the condensation marks on Obi-Wan’s drinks and it was all perception. I was sure when I used the Force to neutralize the buzz, and I got warm again. I slipped the drink pouch into my belt and I’ll try to send it along this time.

I slept in the next morning. Obi-Wan was bright eyed after his meditation and he checked his messages from the Temple. 

“Well, my giant Padawan, you have been progressing well in your training, and I am very proud of your hard work.” His voice was gruff, not the smooth one he used on strangers. He usually complemented me when I did well, and he criticized my self control and recklessness all the time. Open approval in words came less often. For such a big talker for diplomatic missions, he’s quiet when we’re home.

I couldn’t help grinning and the light seemed brighter. “Thank you, Master,” I said into his robes as I hugged him tight.

He hesitated before hugging back, not that he meant anything by it, Mom. 

Most Jedi don’t touch much past a young age, Mom. Younglings can’t shield, and I used to give the healers terrible migraines for months and months as they were getting my health stuff up to speed or I hurt myself. The healers don’t shield as much so they can diagnose our injuries and illnesses. I didn’t understand all that for a _lot_ longer. It always seemed like I was being punished on top of an injury, but I made it harder to treat others by accident.

I miss hugging you, Mom.

But Obi-Wan ended the hug with a smile in his eyes. That isn’t always good because he has a strange sense of humor. That _should_ have warned me. 

“I suspect this may be a little late my young student, but I noticed recently an area of manners and diplomacy that I haven’t apparently covered enough.”

_ Mom, that was not a good smile. _

Whatever it was, he was looking forward to these lessons. He had that same look when I was learning dance, especially the boring pattern dances where turning your foot in the wrong direction was an insult. (There’s enough of that when I learnt the wordless insults possible with the Makashi saber form. But why _bother_ being wordless?)

“I thought I finished all the manners stuff.” _All the core classes, Mom._

“Yes, you passed all the _Council_ required classes, but Master Qui-Gon was a master at dealing with non-Jedi under almost any conditions, and he taught me many more lessons throughout my training. By that measure, you have another eight years or so to go.” This was still Obi-Wan’s restrained smile, though his amusement came through our bond. “You need to deal with attractive people, with charismatic people who appear good, those who use that appearance to take advantage of their situation: to get silence, curry favors, or get funds from you. Amateurs and professionals will find you a very tempting morsel, Padawan.”

I swallowed, my face feeling warm. “Am I supposed to learn to use a social skill, or how to avoid being manipulated by a pretty face?”

Obi-Wan said, “It’s all part of the same cloth, my Padawan. Want and need are powerful passions that can lead you astray, and you need understanding of beauty and charm, not ignorance. Brothel workers can be very useful sources for information for persuasion that cannot be found by slicing. The proper charm, in the Undercity, the Senate, or missions, smooths the way when you... must accomplish something, or someone wants to force you to do something foolish. More awareness is never bad in these matters. I hope you can learn to separate someone with an ulterior motive from someone who needs your help though tone of voice, body language, and your admittedly extreme sensitivity to the Force.”

I knew I was making a face. “You just want to laugh at my stumbling.”

“That _**is**_ a bonus, but look at it this way: my Master did this for me, and you will enjoy the humor just as much with _your_ Padawans’ training.”

Mom, I _really_ prefer concrete missions with clear targets.

“Arrange for our transport for Stenness. It’s rowdy enough of a port for this, they’ve been having troubles with rogue bounty hunters, or we could find another port for this, one which has an excess of your beloved sand...”

I glared at him. “You _know_ I won’t choose that!”

“Hmm, _what_ a coincidence.” He smirked. “Would I have already known that? Was this sandy hell even mentioned by name or was it a hollow threat? You might even realize I wanted you to believe you have a choice when I knew you didn’t. Listen to more than the words, as they can deceive you, my Padawan. There are many threats to your purposes and honor than just with weapons.”

“Can I change my choice?” I really didn’t have any hope I could.

Master Kenobi shook his head. “I know you will enjoy Stenness Hyperspace Terminal, Anakin. If you really don’t, we can make a detour to that _other_ port afterwards for this lesson.”

That smirk made me start shaking my head, Mom, but I could not figure out why he was still so amused.

I’d heard rumors about the Hyperspace port, but we’d never been there. It was _**big**_ and really old, and had hundreds of levels and a sleazy reputation. It would _have to have_ the most wizard kinds of scrap. If I wasn’t a Jedi, I would love to work on the kinds of things tucked away and forgotten on a station like that. My fingers were twitching at the idea of taking something really obscure apart to learn how it worked.

“Padawan, _social_ skills.” 

I grinned. “Sure. That too.”

He huffed but didn’t say anything. He’s got dozens of huffs, maybe hundreds, almost a language. When I was mad at him one time, I started planning to write the huffs up like a real language. I still might someday and enter it into the Archives for preservation. The only problem is the more subtle meanings are only clear in the Force. The ‘I-really-wanted-tea-this-morning’ huff is an easy one. 

I meant to ask how you and Cliegg are doing? I mean I don’t think water would have much of a season, not like other worlds. Not even counting rain and storms, the air gets almost thick and heavy to breathe from the water. Vaporators would run like a spigot then. I don’t get why moisture farmers don’t have more status there. 

One of the better parts of long missions that are covert, is that no one fusses about clothing. No one looked twice at the fighting baton pairs we each wore, one of which held our sabers. Common crew should not carry a Jedi’s light saber. I’m always surprised more people don’t realize Obi-Wan’s a Jedi, just by his stance. No one really looked at us when we debarked with our travel packs from the ship we’d worked passage on at the massive old station. 

It had been years since I’d gone anywhere  new that was this  _ big _ and  _ busy _ . I probably looked l ike a  s ** toopa ** as I followed behind Obi-Wan.  The landing bays were pretty normal looking, but every few steps came a new voice touting something else:  bars, gambling, and fights .  Then we left the port levels and moved into the vast entertainment levels. Mom, there were holos and interactive shows, too. There were a lot of  spice and  other highs.  The further away from the port areas, the more I had to decipher what they were saying. It didn’t take long for me to get that most of the m were selling sex  related services .

Obi-Wan looked cool and _charming_ , even when workers draped themselves over him. I was probably the only one to see a slight pink to his ears, the only visible sign that he was affected by their offers. 

I was fine for a while, but my face got really red after one of the nicer pimps discovered that racing innuendo got me. Then it was almost like a feeding frenzy, with girls and boys put in my path, while they’d given up on Obi-Wan for anything but one liners. These people were _not_ saying ‘awww’ at me for being a cute kid.

Not anymore.

They were looking up at me.

I _thought_ I’d like it more. But that many hanging over me made me feel hemmed in, not excited.

By then I started noticing the glint in their eyes when they complemented me and made a fuss about me being a racing pilot. The smiles and sweet words did not reach their eyes. What they felt was muted, and sometimes they weren’t feeling anything in the Force, or were feeling something different inside.

I didn’t like what I _could_ feel, and I wasn’t feeling good about them, Mom.

I looked at Obi-Wan, wanting to ask him _something_ , but I didn’t know what. He led me away out of that lounge and I was so glad for the relative calm.

We ended up in an empty alley before he spoke. “Are you well, Anakin?” 

I had to breathe a minute to try to calm down, Mom. “Yeah. They wanted so much, too much. I don’t think it was real. Was it?”

He gripped my shoulder. “It _was_ real to them, whatever gives these acts meaning… loneliness, greed, or pettiness. It does not _have_ to include attraction or lust. Their focus _is_ their reality, many support families for a better future and others drift further away from their own. Some are happy and fulfilled, others are trapped. Some act a part, even for Darker purposes.”

I could feel my glare. “ _You_ act parts.”

“Sometimes, for duty. Sometimes not as much.” Obi-Wan nodded in approval. “What is under the gloss? What should give _those_ acts meaning? What meanings can honeyed words disguise? What secret goals?”

My mouth hung open for a moment. I’d thought knowing their emotions in the Force was enough, but I suddenly realized I was out in the wastes alone at a dry well.

Obi-Wan squeezed my shoulder. “When you can answer that well, you will be a step closer to being a Master. This is a good place to learn and much safer than the politics in Coruscant.”

That made me take a deeper breath, and I realized how long his training had been been.

We didn’t return into that establishment but we wandered through many more for the next few cycles, and I was getting better at spotting an honest interest in me instead of my credits. 

I did find some great junk shops too and my stash bag was already crammed full. I was trying to figure a way to ship some back to the Temple without blowing my cover. I could tell my Master’s amusement as I’d filled the one counter in our rented room with my finds.

After a time in the spacer bars, he started taking us gradually to upscale places too. Not that the people had wild costumes like Queen Padmé and her handmaidens, but neat and less constricting.

Obi-Wan got the room hung up on every word of an improbable story about adventures with a hen pecked pirate and his formidable mother. I sat at the bar to watch him go and nursed my drink. I was used to how he could influence a crowd like this, Mom, but he wasn’t using the Force. Just reading the mixed crowd and using a story-teller’s voice. He’s got a lot of stories he can tell, one I heard was a variant of a tale from the old Sith wars he must have studied them after Master Qui-Gon was killed. This one was winding down on either a cohab or wedding proposal from the pirate and Obi-Wan describing his efforts to get away without making an enemy.

A snort and some quiet snickering came from the person beside me.

I looked and saw I’d been sitting next to a woman in really pretty greens and browns, with a visible blaster and wavy long curls like bright orange flames and metallic silver eyes. My mouth might have been hanging open.

She looked at me out of the corners of her eyes. “That greedy sot’s wanted by dozens of worlds. He doesn’t like ‘no’ and thinks he’s a good catch.”

That made me roll my eyes. “That one can say ‘no’ a hundred ways, but he knows a _lot_ about ships.”

The woman turned toward me, looking me up and down. “So a pretty boy like you wants to be a pilot, and the old man keeps you on a string-”

“I’m _getting_ flight time. I just don’t have papers for everything I can fly.”

She leaned closer, brushing fingers along my hip and whispered. “I’ve got a cockpit you can fly pretty boy. Let’s get back to my ship...”

My face went on fire, because I _knew_. 

I knew when spacers tried to buy my time back on Tatooine, though locals knew how possessive Watto was of me and my health. No slave is _really_ innocent and she had no threat in her presence. She was beautiful and confident and wasn’t going to think less of me, or too much of me, because I was a Jedi...

_I hadn’t decided yet._ “I’m Anakin, who are you?”

“I’m Captain Whitfall of the _Arneb_ , but _you_ can call me Millave , apricot.” Leaning closer she ran worn fingers through my shorn fuzz.

Obi-Wan’s presence brushed mine.  _-You want an out, Padawan mine?-_

_ -No, Master. I’m fine.- _

_ -Be careful, Anakin. I will stay here.- _

_ -I am **fine** , Master. She’s no Hutt.- _

Was that a new huff? But he didn’t forbid it, and stayed quiet after that. Her ship was a freighter, and her Iridonian Co left the ship when we arrived.

And Millave was so beautiful, with eyes that shone like steel. She was the same height, and kissed me and made me dizzy as soon as we were outside in the hall. I’m not telling you the details, Mom.

* * *

_ -Anakin… isn’t it time for you to get up?- _

“-go ‘way -Wan. Wanna sleep...” I stuffed my head into the bedding.

“Apricot? Is something wrong?” A warm female voice asked beside me.

I sat up, panic making me wide awake in an instant. I wasn’t hung over or anything like that, I just forgot. “No, Milla. Old memories.” I’d seen many nude women, but one reclining beside me with a smirk was new.

I could feel Obi-Wan was amused from here.

“You looking for a new berth? We might be able to sign you on as engineer, and train you up as long as you have some skills.” She ran her fingers down my chest.

I was not really sure what skills she wanted to train me in. Right then I wasn’t sure if I cared.

No, I didn’t leave the _Arneb,_ not that day. Obi-Wan was annoyed, but he didn’t come get me. He would have if we were called for a mission.

A nd I really want to be a Jedi knight, Mom.

Each morning, Master Obi-Wan would wake me, more to make sure I was okay, I think. I felt more free. I could have called for help anytime through our training bond, but it was nice to spend time with Milla. I learned a few things about small freighters and running them.

I wasn’t sure if I loved her. It was different than how I feel for you, or Padmé, or even Obi-Wan. I wished I could have talked to you right then.

* * *

The second day her  Iridonian female  partner, Bokktor,  came back smelling of alcohol  and baring her pointed teeth at me as we did some maintenance on their shield generator. “You tell your pet that we’re leaving port soon? He’ll have to cut those ties if he wants to be an adult.”

Milla ran  oil y fingers through my hair. “I don’t think he’s ready. He wants adventures more than a decent profit. I haven’t been able to convince him that there’s plenty of danger  as a trader.”

I kept working and didn’t meet their eyes as I tuned the generator for a better response under high load. “I want fleet experience, maybe get a surplus ship. Ben’s got an in on Naboo.”  _I have a better one, Mom._

“Oh, really?” Bokktor asked, swaying. “That’s very interesting, isn’t it, Millave? Is he as cute as your pet?”

“A talker, an older human, dear. So full of it by that age. Apricot _here_ is the find.”

My ears warmed and I revised their estimated ages upward. “He’s been teaching me everything. I’m not done yet.”

“You _are_ talented with this ship. I wish I could convince you. I don’t think we can afford a fourth crew yet. You’re both free hands, aren’t you?” Milla seemed sad as she leaned against me and slid her arm around my behind.

“Not all chatty humans are annoying, remember Lal?” Bokktor smirked, her attention unfocused.

I really didn’t want to say. “For now. I don’t know if Ben has anything lined up for us.” 

Milla whispered in my ear. “Maybe you could find out, apricot. Learning here with me has its own rewards.”

The warm breath against my skin did things. “We can ask… but.” I really didn’t remember how I was going to finish that sentence. 

That made Milla laugh as she checked her blaster before towing me along with her.

We had to visit a few places, before I ‘found’ Obi-Wan. He was calm, and concentrating while I sought his presence.

I found him in a smoky room over a modest pile of credits. He looked far more serious about the game than he felt. “Ben!”

He folded his hand and collected his pile to leave the game. “Good to see you again, face to face, Anakin. I was concerned.”

“Fat lot of care you showed there, he’s been gone _five_ days,” Milla accused. “For all you knew, he was dead or sold off to the Hutts.”

Obi-Wan’s emotions darkened, though his face looked as unchanged as any negotiation as he sat back on a lounge. “I would know, and rapidly. If he had been sold, there would be only smoking ruins. Do not pretend to know what I care about.”

_A week_ _?_ “ _I’m sorry,_ M- Ben. I- uh.” I tried to count back as I’d thought it was only three days. “Really, I wasn’t in any danger.”

“He deserves a better berth, spacer.” Milla crossed her arms and glared.

“Anakin may leave anytime he wants. I would hope that he warns me, but it is not your decision but his.”

I didn’t like them arguing, though Obi-Wan was as much amused as annoyed. _-I don’t really want_ _t_ _o be a trader or smuggler, Master.-_

_ -I know, Padawan. I doubt you have even three days before we have to leave. I already arranged transportation. Be careful.- _

“Let’s grab some dinner and go back, Milla. I’ll help finish those circulation filtering and anything that won’t take long.” 

Milla fumed as I pulled her to a Cantina I found by smell.

We got back to the Arneb, and the loading hatch was open. Milla unstrapped her blaster and ran in. Into the smell of blood, blood that had pumped out twice as hard from the dead body of her partner.

I lagged behind and felt Obi-Wan’s concern and motion from levels away. 

Milla dropped to her knees in the carnage and wailed her shock.”We have to find them. They have to pay for this. Help me find them!” 

“Okay.” While Milla checked for the life I knew was gone, I checked for external feeds. There was a skinny and armored bounty hunter sneaking in and leaving down one aisle. I knew they hadn’t gone far. “Come on, Milla.”

The chase seemed to take forever, but it wasn’t. Obi-Wan hadn’t caught up with me yet when I spotted him and pointed at him running into a side corridor.

She lunged ahead of me, leading with her blaster. “Hold it you, Hutt-shutta! You had no right to murder her!”

I felt more danger around us and pulled my batons as some thugs took their swings. It was almost fun to block and duck, swinging the real baton into their heads and guts, knocking them out. Three wasn’t bad without using the Force.

But when I looked at Milla, she’d ripped the helmet off the wounded woman with putty colored skin, Milla’s blaster pointed under her chin. “Alright you waste of oxygen, you _murdered_ her. What, over something stupid, like everything you karking… I don’t even _care_ why. I’m going to kill you inch by inch, carving you up for a roast. You should have left us alone. First your jaw and then closer and closer to your spine until your heart forgets how to beat. A century’s worth of pain just for you.”

“Stand down, Milla.” I hoped my voice sounded strong and deep. “She should be arrested. Murder isn’t legal, even for bounty hunters.”

“That’s too slow. She won’t pay. She’ll buy her way out, if they can even find someone with the _sand_ to make an arrest.” Milla’s face was wet with tears as she held up the bounty hunter with one arm, but her rage rang around us.

Detaching the concealment, I lit my light saber so the blue light shined on the scene. “I can take her in. She cannot escape.”

Milla’s eyes glistened oddly in the light and her laugh was higher and sounded broken. “That’s even _better_. She tried to escape justice. Don’t you see? She needs to die. She needs to face justice from the old gods. I will see bloody vengeance for what she has done to us.”

“She no threat now, she could die...” _Don’t make me choose._

“A thousand deaths isn’t enough. _**Help me**_ kill her!”

I felt her intention and yanked her blaster away as hard as I could. The shot creased her jaw, but not enough to be fatal. A snap-crack came from Milla’s arm and she turned enough to start kicking her target in her fury.

Obi-Wan came around the corner. “I see you managed, Padawan. What’s the situation?”

The short version was that they were very wanted on many worlds for a lot of deaths, they smuggled themselves for high profit jobs, not spice or weapons. Obi-Wan pointed out that trying to hire a couple of Jedi was not their brightest move.

But I still felt like I wanted to be sick, Mom. I’d thought I was falling in love, that she was most of what I admired.

* * *

It took a couple of days to get the arrests and their ship straightened out. Millave would not admit to any next of kin, and there were liens and lawsuits already.

I slept.

This time, Obi-Wan sat on the edge of my bunk and shook my shoulder. “Come, my Padawan. Our next passage is a luxury one this time and leaves in about an hour.”

Not quite awake, I just stared at him. _Was I dreaming? Luxury?_

“Not as much as traveling with a queen, but far better than our usual. A little light gambling can be relaxing.” That was his smirk again.

“Where’s the catch?”

Now he grinned. “Very good. There still remains that trip to Jakku for the summer sand. We still that lesson for you to learn more about ulterior motives. You cut out on the star base...”

The sinking feeling was back. I’d forgotten. “The sand...” All my loathing was in those words.

“Come along, Padawan. Maybe this time you will _remain_ for the lesson.”

I scratched at my head. My disappearing for days could have been a much worse penalty than a comfortable flight to a sandy world.

As much as I hate sand.

Still I moped in my cabin, upset about Millave.

The ramp came down and I saw the kriffin’ sand.

Then I looked up and saw you, with Owen and Beru behind. I could feel Obi-Wan’s grin in the Force.

You know this section, how I nearly wasted tears while hugging you. Obi-Wan explaining waiting for such a loosely defined mission, and how bending the rules is more effective if you usually behave above average. And _he_ will accept any penalty for our actions. Owen being real and engaged. It was only two days, but it meant everything. 

Obi-Wan always looks out for me, even when I get mad at him.

I miss you already, Mom. I will see you again, I just don’t know when. Some worlds are unhappy with the Senate and Master has another of his bad feelings. He thinks we won’t have as many breaks anymore.

Love, Anakin

  
  


* * *

  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


**A BRIEF SURVEY**

  
  


OF

  
  


VOCAL HUFF EXPRESSION

AS A FORMATIVE LANGUAGE

AMONG

CORUSCANTI-STEWJOHN JEDI

  
  


  
  


**BY**

**ANAKIN SKYWALKER,**

**PADAWAN,**

IN

PARTIAL FULFILLMENT

OF

COMPARATIVE LANGUAGE REQUIREMENT

  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it is still May4th in my time zone... though not by much. Hope you had a good one.
> 
> I hope it's clear by the end of the story, that this is not exactly canon compliant, but I believe they could have. I really cannot believe that both of these rule breakers stayed totally compliant on this issue through the eleven years before Anakin became a knight.
> 
> Anakin is about 17, which is still age of consent in many places, and far above it historically. And as an ex-slave from the armpit of the galaxy, he would have to be a little older as he could not be completely sheltered. And rule-breaker again...
> 
> Hope you enjoyed these rebels. Let me know what worked. And thanks for reading.

**Author's Note:**

> Most typos are deliberate, as slaves don't learn much written grammar. Story may be added to intermittently.
> 
> I do not own Star Wars, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. Some characters are original.


End file.
